A Little Comedy Can be a Dangerous Thing
by Thomas Linquist
Summary: Ron considers giving up his "day job" to do a little stand up.  Not a wise move there, Ronster!


Note: This story is the result of a chat session with a good friend and fellow Kimmunity member. Ran Hakubi and I were just shooting the breeze, and this is the result. Sorry, my friend, but if I'm going down for this, I'm dragging you with me.

As usual, if you saw it on television, I don't own it. Parody of artists and their catchphrases is purely intentional, but meant in good clean fun.

**A Little Comedy Can be a Dangerous Thing**

Ron had finally finished his algebra homework, with a little help from Rufus who was now sleeping on the arm of the couch in the family room. They had also finished a grande size order of nacos and burritos they had picked up on the way home from school. For some reason, looking at all those letters and numbers on the page always made Ron hungry, as well as confused. Sometimes he wished he had inherited just a little bit of the mental ability that had made his dad Actuary of the Year, and his mother a rising star in financial circles.

Dumping the books and other study equipment into his backpack, the tow-headed youth picked up the remote and finally got to turn on the TV. He had promised his parents that there would not be anymore homework sessions with the device on, since having to do a make-up test three months previously, only just saving a semester from being a total wash out.

Aimlessly he flicked through the channels, grateful that his father had _finally _broken down and gotten cable. For years he'd been catching shows by going to friends houses, but even Kim had gotten tired of his spending evenings on the Possible family couch, mesmerized by the glowing screen. The twins had been glad of his company, since they shared a taste for shows involving mayhem and wanton destruction of property.

Noting with pleasure that the Simian Station was finally blocked, he came across a program that he thought worthy of vegetating to. A man with shaggy blond hair, a mustache and faded blue jeans standing in front of a painted backdrop. The famous Jim Wolfworth was holding forth once again on the nature of people with that "wonderful lack of sophistication". The audience was howling with laughter. This woke Rufus, who, after a few one liners about blue collar people, was also laughing.

"You know, buddy, that looks like a lot of fun. I bet I could have given Kim a lot more time to get to the school talent show if I'd done a routine like that."

Rufus looked over at Ron and gave a skeptical shake of his head. "Nuh-uh!" He said, squeaking most emphatically.

"Oh, c'mon, Rufus, how hard could it be? This guy just looks around him and finds the crazy stuff that people do. Didn't you notice all of the people pointing at each other with each joke?" At that moment, Jim hit his audience with the one about having engine parts as center pieces at holiday tables. One woman rolled her eyes as if begging for patience and slugged the man next to her on the shoulder.

As the show concluded, Ron continued to become more and more confident that he could do the same thing, with a few _minor_ adjustments. After all, he had the advantage of having met some of the strangest people in the world. Surely there was room for a little humor there. If talking about his adventures with Kim didn't get him much respect, maybe laughing a little about them might at least get people to remember who he was.

It being late, Ron began to drop off to sleep, but not before hearing that a local club would be hosting an open mike night. Making a mental note of the address and time of registration, he finally drifted off.

XX

Standing backstage, Ron was running his fingers through his already unruly hair. He'd actually done it. He'd signed himself up to get in front of a crowd of strangers and hit them with material. It had seemed so simple, back on the family room sofa. Still, he was pretty sure that the routine he had come up with and painstakingly rehearsed in front of the mirror would go over quite well.

The club manager approached him. "Okay, kid, your up next. I should warn you though, this crowd could be a little rough. We normally hold karaoke night on Fridays, and some of these guys are regulars for that."

"Don't worry, I'm sure they'd rather hear this routine than listen to somebody with a whiny voice pretending he has talent."

The plump, balding man merely shrugged. "Just so's you know." He walked back out of the wings and onto the stage, applauding for the previous act, which was exiting with a look of relief on his face. Reception had indeed been less than enthusiastic, but at least the stage was still clear.

"Thank you, Marcus Larf! Give it up for a good sport." There was some quiet clapping, as if from the very back of the room.

"Now ladies and gentlemen, we give you the comedic styling of Ron Stoppable." The man walked back into the wings and leaned over to whisper at Ron, "Remember, if you hear shuffling from the front tables, duck and cover." With that, he walked back to the small table that was set out with some incredibly greasy food and a pint mug full of suds.

Ron put his shoulders back and calmly walked out onto the stage and into the lights. He failed to notice the untied shoelace and immediately tripped all over himself, rolling into a sitting position with his head spinning.

There was an extremely loud laugh from the back of the room, and the sound of a glass hitting the floor. A familiar voice, just barely audible said, "He hasn't even opened his mouth and already the buffoon is falling on his face!" This was followed by an equally familiar snicker. At the moment, Ron was just too distracted to place either voice.

"Thank you ladies and gentlemen! I meant to do that, honest." There was a disbelieving series of grunts and chuckles from the dark room. Without the house lights, it was impossible to see anything from the stage.

"Trust me, when you deal with the people I do, you learn to roll with the punches. People who try to take over the world have little sense of humor. The odd thing is, they expect you to take them seriously, when they can be just plain strange. Super villains are a breed unto themselves. It's not hard to spot them either. You don't even have to be a crime fighter."

"For example, if your neighbor has ever accidentally stepped on your car with the giant robot he made out of stolen production equipment, he might be a super villain." There was no real reaction to this from the dark, but Ron wasn't dissuaded. After all, Jim Wolfworth didn't take off over night either.

"If you have ever been banned from the pet store because you turned a guinea pig and a boxer into one pet, you might be a super villain." This time, there was a definite response, a sniff of disdain, from somewhere over by the bar.

"If you, as a man, have ever worn a nightgown to lay a trap for an obstacle to your ambitions, you might be a super villain." There was an uncomfortable shuffling from somewhere off to the right, with a whisper that sounded like "It was a housecoat!"

"If you've ever stolen a complex piece of machinery, and your only thought was where to put in a few cup holders, you might be a super villain." There was the sound of squeaking leather from the middle of the room.

"If your greatest weapon involves boiling a sheep's organs in it's own stomach, you might be a super villain." A beer mug hit a table with a resounding thud, followed by a hissed "Tha's ma gran's recipe, ye moron!"

"If you've ever had your thieving justified by your employer as 'outsourcing', you might be a super villain."

Suddenly, there was a scream from the back of the room, and a blast of green plasma scorched the floor just in front of Ron. "That's it buffoon! This act is over."

The house lights came up, and Ron found himself facing just about every enemy he and Kim had ever fought. He scrambled back away from the footlights and covered his face with both arms, feeling himself being pelted with all manner of snack foods. "No, no, I take it all back! It was all in good fun! Can't you take a joke?"

XX

Ron came awake to find Rufus slapping at the arms he held over his face. The naked mole rat was looking at his friend with a very concerned look on his face. "On second thought, Rufus, maybe I'll stick to just watching the professionals do comedy routines!" He picked up the remote and turned the television off.


End file.
